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Linette visibly relaxed. ‘Th-thank you, Lord Stewart.’
‘I regret that my father is not able to be with us this evening, but his health is not the best and it was necessary that he remain in London for a few days.’
‘We are very sorry to hear that, my lord,’ Mr Darling said in a tone of mingled relief and regret. Obviously, he too had been wondering at the reason behind the earl’s absence. ‘I hope he will be recovered in time for the coming festivities.’
‘We certainly hope that will be the case,’ Lord Stewart said. ‘The doctor has advised a period of rest before resuming his social obligations. Especially one of this consequence.’
‘Will there be … a lot of people in attendance?’ Linette asked nervously.
‘Indeed, most everyone has written to say they will be here,’ Lady Widdicombe replied. ‘I had my doubts about Lord and Lady Martindale, but their acceptance arrived yesterday, and even Lord and Lady Huffton said they would be willing to leave town for a weekend. Then there will be Sir George and Lady Monk, and of course, the Earl and Countess of Leyland and their daughter, Lady Glynnis Pettle, whom Alexander is soon to marry.’
‘Marry?’ Peter Taylor’s eyebrows rose. ‘I wasn’t aware you’d proposed to Lady Glyn, Alex.’
‘I haven’t,’ Lord Stewart said with a speaking glance at his mother.
‘But we all know it is only a matter of time.’ Lady Widdicombe turned to Emma’s father with a complacent smile. ‘There has been an understanding between the families for some time. Lady Glynnis’s father is the Earl of Leyland and her mother the former Lady Georgiana Croft, daughter of the Marquis of Tunney. It is an excellent match.’
Mr Darling and Aunt Dorothy both offered dutiful murmurs of approval and Lady Widdicombe looked suitably appeased. Emma, who was not impressed by the countess’s reluctance to appear as welcoming towards Linette as she was to this other unknown lady, rolled her eyes, only to flush when she caught Lord Stewart watching her.
‘Miss Darling,’ he said, his gaze moving over her so quickly she felt a draught. ‘I would not have taken you for Miss Linette’s sister. The resemblance between you is not immediately discernible.’
‘Pray do not trouble yourself to be polite, Lord Stewart, the resemblance is not discernable after several hours of intense study. Linette has always been the beauty in the family,’ Emma told him. ‘I tend more towards the academic and the practical.’
‘Oh, now, Emma, you are being far too critical of yourself,’ Linette was quick to say. ‘You play the piano, manage the household and paint the most wonderful landscapes.’
‘All at the same time?’ Lord Stewart favoured Emma with a brief smile. ‘A remarkable talent indeed.’
Resisting the impulse to trade sarcasm for sarcasm, Emma said, ‘It no doubt would be if I were able to do all three simultaneously, but I prefer to do them separately and I admit to painting with far more skill than I play.’
‘How unfortunate,’ Lady Widdicombe observed. ‘A lady’s talent on the pianoforte must always be deemed more valuable than her ability to paint. Painting is such a solitary occupation and one cannot socialise when one is alone.’
‘True, but if a lady does not entertain well, surely it is kinder to her audience that she not make the attempt? I would far rather look at a well-executed painting than listen to a poorly played sonata.’
‘Surely the answer is to practise more often, Miss Darling.’
‘Only if there is something to be gained by the effort.’ Emma smiled. ‘Apart from Linette, my family is not particularly gifted in the musical arena.’
The remark was followed by a rather startled silence, leaving Emma to conclude that speaking truthfully about one’s abilities or lack thereof was probably not recommended. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought her father was not the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was announced a short time later.
Dinner in the baronial dining room was exceptional, though Emma thought eating in the smaller, more intimate family dining room would have been far less intimidating. The great table, which could easily have sat forty, was set with crisp white linens, sparking crystal and the family silver. A magnificent silver epergne graced the centre of the table, while smaller flower arrangements at either end provided a welcome splash of colour against the backdrop of white and silver.
As host, Peter Taylor took his place at the head of the table, with his mother on his right and Linette on his left. Lord Stewart sat to Emma’s right, while her father was on Lady Widdicombe’s right with Aunt Dorothy beside him. And, as expected, the meal was outstanding. A variety of courses, each more tempting than the last, was served by liveried footmen while the butler poured the wine and kept a sharp eye on every servant in the room.
Emma couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Jenks, their man of all trades. A country fellow at best, poor Jenks would have felt decidedly out of place here at Ellingsworth Hall. No doubt the servants below stairs were every bit as intimidating as the lofty family above.
‘Something amuses you, Miss Darling?’
Emma looked up to find Lord Stewart’s blue eyes fixed upon her. ‘Yes, though I doubt anyone but myself would find it so.’
‘How can you know if you do not give us an opportunity to hear it?’
‘Because I learned long ago that while some things are amusing to all, others are not.’ Emma’s gaze moved around the room, touching on the elegant, the beautiful and the priceless. Somehow she knew her musings would definitely fall into the latter category. ‘I am sorry to hear of your father’s illness, Lord Stewart. I hope it is nothing serious.’
‘I’m sure it is not.’ Lord Stewart’s practised smile moved easily into place. ‘The doctor simply advised rest for a few days.’
‘Still, such things are worrisome. While I’m sure the doctor is doing everything he can to speed Lord Widdicombe’s recovery, it always weighs on one’s mind.’
‘As you say.’ He raised his glass and glanced at her over the rim. ‘Will your brother be joining us in two weeks’ time? I understand he is presently studying law at Oxford.’
‘Yes, but we sent word to let him know of the engagement and Ridley has assured us that he will be here in time.’
‘As, hopefully, will Father,’ Peter Taylor said, glancing at his mother. ‘We must have everyone in attendance for such an important occasion. Isn’t that right, Mother?’
Lady Widdicombe looked up and shared a brief glance with her eldest son. After a pause, Lord Stewart said, ‘Of course everyone will be here, Peter. It is, after all, the celebration of your engagement. And, on that note, may I ask you to rise, raise your glasses and join me in a toast,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘To my brother and his lady. May they experience good health, prosperity, and may they always be as happy as they are today.’
Emma dutifully raised her glass. It was not the most romantic of toasts, but perhaps Lord Stewart was not a romantic man. Just because he looked the part didn’t mean he had the temperament to go along with it. She spared a quick glance for her sister, who was smiling blissfully into her fiancé’s eyes and knew Linette didn’t care a whit about flowery tributes or good wishes. She was in love and the man she loved, loved her in return.
Not even the most pedantic of toasts was going to rob her of the pleasure she found in that.
At the conclusion of meal, Lady Widdicombe led the ladies into the elegant Green Saloon, leaving the gentlemen free to enjoy their after-dinner indulgences. Emma, who was decidedly relieved to be away from the probing eyes of Lord Stewart, found the Green Saloon far more to her liking. It was peaceful after the dramatic Chinese room, due no doubt to the absence of snarling dragons and sabre-waving warriors everywhere she turned.
‘Mrs Grand,’ Lady Widdicombe said as she settled into an emerald-green wing chair. ‘You are, I understand, a widow?’
‘Yes. My husband died three years ago.’
‘So you now live with your brother and take care of his family?’
‘Oh, no, your ladyship. I live in London with a companion. I’m not one for country life,’ Aunt Dorothy admitted. ‘I prefer the hustle and bustle of town. Always something going on and plenty of shops to spend your time and your money in. But I try to come down at least twice a year to be with my brother and his family.’
‘I see. Then I take it you, Miss Darling, have the responsibility of running the house and looking after your siblings,’ the countess said.
Emma smiled. ‘I look after the housekeeping and the accounts, and I take care of Papa and Linette as best I can, but my brother, Ridley, is presently away at Oxford and quite able to look after himself.’
‘And neither you nor your brother is married.’
‘No.’
The countess turned to regard Aunt Dorothy again. ‘Is it not unusual, Mrs Grand, for a younger daughter to be settled in marriage before the older son and daughter have made a suitable match?’
‘I suppose it is, your ladyship.’
‘Am I to assume, then, that Miss Darling has not been to London?’
The older woman’s cheeks coloured. ‘I believe she has.’
‘But obviously met with no success.’
‘On the contrary, I was most successful,’ Emma said, having had enough of people talking about her as though she wasn’t in the room. ‘I spent a good deal of time at the British Museum and, by the time I left, I had sketched nearly the entire contents of the Egyptian wing and made a decent start on ancient Greece.’
The comment was clearly unexpected and the resultant look of surprise on Lady Widdicombe’s face prompted Aunt Dorothy to say, ‘Emma is quite gifted when it comes to drawing, Lady Widdicombe. Her sketches of the Elgin Marbles were really quite astonishing.’
‘Indeed.’ Lady Widdicombe turned her attention to Linette, obviously finding Emma’s achievements less than noteworthy. ‘Miss Linette, are you able to play the pianoforte?’
‘I am, Lady Widdicombe.’
‘Then pray be good enough to entertain us.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Linette quickly got up and moved to the instrument. ‘Oh! A Broadwood grand piano.’
‘Yes. Peter had it brought down from London.’ Pride resonated in the countess’s voice. ‘He plays exquisitely.’
Linette ran her fingers lightly over the keys, picking out a simple tune. ‘What a lovely sound. Emma, you must come and turn the pages for me.’
Dutifully, Emma got up and joined her sister.
‘What shall I play?’ Linette whispered. ‘I am so nervous.’
‘You have nothing to be nervous about.’ Emma calmly flipped through the sheets of music on the platform and pulled one out. ‘You play beautifully and your voice is that of an angel. And here is one of your favourite pieces.’
‘“Greensleeves,”’ Linette said, relieved. ‘Yes, I shall be able to do justice to that.’
She began to play and though Emma dutifully watched her progress so as not to miss turning the page at the appropriate time, she did risk an occasional glance at Lady Widdicombe to see if she was enjoying the performance. She hadn’t missed the ambivalence in the countess’s attitude towards Linette. While she wasn’t precisely hostile, neither was she warmly welcoming. Fortunately, she seemed to appreciate Linette’s skill on the pianoforte. She actually closed her eyes once or twice during the performance and was gracious in showing her appreciation at the end.
‘Very nice, Miss Linette. You play tolerably well and have a very pleasant singing voice.’
‘Thank you, Lady Widdicombe.’
‘Of course, both would be improved by regular practice. I would advise you to take the required time during each day to do so.’
‘Yes, Lady Widdicombe.’
‘And now, it is Miss Darling’s turn to entertain us,’ the countess said. ‘Unless she feels it will be too embarrassing for her.’
Emma smiled. Had Lady Widdicombe not tossed in that last line, she might have gracefully demurred. But never one to back away from a challenge, she sat down on the bench recently vacated by her sister and said, ‘I do have one or two tolerable pieces in my repertoire. I simply shall not sing for that would be most humbling after Linette’s performance. And I doubt that would be improved if I were to practise every hour of every day from now until I died.’
Lady Widdicombe said nothing, allowing Emma a brief moment of victory. The countess might be able to tell Linette what she should and should not do, but she certainly wasn’t going to exert the same influence over her. One had to draw the line somewhere.
It would have been a great deal better, Emma reflected later, had she been the first to perform and Linette the second. Because by the time Linette had taken Emma’s vacant seat next to Aunt Dorothy and Emma was ready to play, the door opened again and the gentlemen walked in. And it became immediately evident that no one had been expecting to see her seated at the pianoforte. Emma saw a look of startled pleasure on her father’s face and a slightly more cautious one on Mr Taylor’s.
Lord Stewart’s expression was unreadable. Nor could she glean anything from the tone of his voice, when, moving to stand beside the fireplace, he said, ‘I did not expect you to honour us with a performance, Miss Darling.’
‘I did not say I was unable to play, my lord,’ Emma said evenly. ‘Only that I do not play as well as I paint. Nor do I sing as well as my sister, whose performance you just missed.’
‘Then I hope we may prevail upon Miss Linette to sing for us again. But we should regret not hearing you play first.’
Equally sure he wouldn’t have cared had she left immediately after dinner, Emma turned her attention back to the piano. Normally, she would have quailed at having to perform in front of such dignified company, but having recently discovered a piece by Bach that she liked very much, and having spent more time than usual practising it while at Aunt Augusta’s house, Emma had managed to imprint the score firmly in her mind. Now, after giving herself a few minutes to recall the intricate opening, she placed her fingers upon the keys and began to play.
Music rolled forth. Not sweet and sentimental like Linette’s ‘Greensleeves,’ but strong and powerful, the melody filling the room. It was one of passion and unrequited love, and on the exquisite instrument the notes rang true and clear. For once, Emma forgot about her audience and lost herself in the music. She had never performed on such a marvellous instrument before and she was astonished at how well the piece sounded. As she brought her hands down on the final chords, her heart was beating hard, her exhilaration at having executed the complicated piece without a mistake bringing an unexpected glow of triumph to her cheeks.
There was a moment’s stunned silence. Then, enthusiastic applause broke out as Emma rose to take her bows. She saw a variety of expressions on the faces turned towards her. On her father’s, pride, pure and simple. On her aunt’s, pride mingled with relief, and on Linette’s, astonished admiration. Peter Taylor’s mouth was open and Lady Widdicombe was staring at her in disbelief.
Only Lord Stewart’s expression bore no indication of surprise. ‘You did not tell us the truth of your ability, Miss Darling. Seldom have I heard that piece played better or with more emotion.’
‘Indeed, I believe you were having sport with us, Miss Darling,’ Peter said. ‘I vow she would give Lady Glynnis a run for her money. What say you, Alex?’
‘I’d say Miss Darling could hold her own with anyone,’ he answered evenly. ‘Well done, Miss Darling.’
‘Indeed, Emma, well done!’ Linette said with unconcealed joy.
Emma politely inclined her head, grateful for the praise, but more relieved that she hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of everyone in the room. She’d told herself when she’d sat down at the piano that she had wanted to make a good showing for Linette’s sake and that she hadn’t played the piece to impress anyone, but that wasn’t entirely true.
She had wanted to make a good impression. She had wanted to impress him.
‘Thank you, but it is one of the few pieces I play well,’ she said. ‘As indicated earlier, my repertoire is extremely limited.’
‘If you were only to play that one piece, you would find yourself welcome in any drawing room,’ Lord Stewart said.
The subtle words of praise had Emma raising her eyes to his; something she immediately came to regret. She didn’t want him thinking she cared, any more than she was willing to admit she did.
‘Play something else, Miss Darling,’ Peter implored. ‘You must have at least one other song with which to entertain us.’
‘What about “The Merry Piper”?’ Aunt Dorothy suggested.
Emma nodded. ‘Only if Linette will sing.’
Not surprisingly, Linette was delighted to sing and because they had performed the duet so many times, Emma knew they acquitted themselves well. The music was lovely and Linette’s sweet soprano voice made easy work of the lyrics. At the conclusion, they were again met with enthusiastic applause.
‘I say, the two of you must perform for our guests at the ball,’ Peter said. ‘I don’t believe I have ever heard a lovelier duet.’
‘Nonsense, Peter, musicians have already been engaged,’ his mother said. ‘It is hardly the thing for your … fiancée and her sister to entertain.’
‘In that case, I am delighted we were treated to the performance tonight.’ He moved to stand beside Linette and taking her hand, raised it to his lips. ‘Did I not tell you she was the most beautiful, the most gifted, the most remarkable young lady of my acquaintance?’
Emma hastily averted her eyes from the lovestruck look on her future brother-in-law’s face and promptly locked gazes with Lord Stewart—whose expression was anything but lovestruck. What was he thinking as he watched the pretty scene unfold? That it was hopelessly romantic? An emotional embarrassment? Was he counting the minutes until he could politely slip away? The half-smile on his lips might be one of amusement, but it could just as easily signify boredom or contempt. He didn’t strike Emma as the type of man who would find pleasure in such simple drawing-room entertainments.
‘Well done, dearest,’ Aunt Dorothy whispered as Emma sat back down beside her. ‘Your father and I could not be more proud.’
Emma managed a fleeting smile, aware of being able to breathe a little easier now that the performance was over. But she was far from happy with her silly need to impress Peter’s brother. Of what concern was it to her what he thought of her? The man was attractive, wealthy and heir to an earldom. He was no doubt used to women falling at his feet and to singing his praises in the hopes of attracting his attention.
Emma had no intention of becoming one of those women. She was not some simple-minded female easily swayed by good looks and an impressive title. She judged a man on the strength of his convictions, on the fairness of his mind and on the kindness of his words. What she had seen of Lord Stewart tonight was a man assessing a situation. One who had likely been asked to pass judgement on Linette and possibly on the rest of her family as well. Because when a man married, his bride’s family became his family. Her assets became his assets. And her liabilities became his liabilities.
Was that what Lord Stewart had been sent here to find out? Emma wondered. The extent of the liability his brother was really taking on?
Chapter Three
Not surprisingly, a great deal of speculation followed the dinner at Ellingsworth Hall. Linette suffered alternating bouts of exhilaration and despair over what Lady Widdicombe’s and Lord Stewart’s feelings about her might have been, for while she was encouraged by her performance on the piano, she was equally convinced that her conversation at dinner had fallen far short of what was expected and that their impressions of her had been tainted as a result.
Naturally, Aunt Dorothy was of the opinion that Linette had done splendidly and that, in her estimation, the evening had been an unmitigated success. She declared the countess to be far more gracious than expected, that Lord Stewart was an elegant and handsome gentleman, and that Mr Taylor was exactly the type of man one might wish to have as a son-in-law.
